


Flouted Traditions

by Booky230



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancer Marianne, Dancing, F/F, Garreg Mach Ball (Fire Emblem), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26787910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booky230/pseuds/Booky230
Summary: Hilda's been looking forward to the Garreg March Ball year, and she is going to enjoy it. Dancing with the guys, getting favors set up for the next month, getting spoiled and adored... It's going to be perfect. And this time, she's definitely not going to get distracted by Marianne. Definitely.Probably.But she really shouldn't be standing off to the side all alone like that...Or; Hilda gets distracted by Marianne at the Garreg March ball.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	Flouted Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Very late to playing Three Houses, and probably late to this idea. But I got to the Garreg March Ball, and had the perfect storm of circumstances of seeing their supports, making Marianne a dancer, and Hilda saying she loves dancing, so this kind of just fell out. Might do more of these two expanding on some things if the mood strikes, but for now, enjoy.

This was supposed to be the most exciting night of Hilda’s month. No, year. No, _life_. It was everything she’s wanted! Dancing, beautiful clothes, even better looking guys… It was the annual ball! She should’ve been flying high! She should’ve been _delirious_ off of all the boys falling at her feet eager to please, and racking up bodies for the next six months of chores. And it wasn’t like all that _wasn’t_ happening. Even without it being tradition and all, the guys would’ve been lining up to dance with her. And she _was_ getting helping hands for chores. She was just off her game- so far she only had enough for _three_ months. She was distracted, and her distraction was a blue haired noble wallflower named Marianne von Edmund.  
  
True to her word, Marianne was watching from a distance. Hilda noticed her from the corner of her eye lingering in a corner of the dance hall. Her eyes were downcast, her head low, and she seemed to be so much smaller than she was, folding into herself. Hilda had to admit, had this been the start of the school year, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed her. The spell Marianne cast to blend into her environment was practically magical for how potent it was. Even as the winner of the Heron Cup, a position that would’ve guaranteed any other girl- like, say, Hilda- a legion of adoring suitors, only a few managed to find her, and all were quickly turned down. Clearly, Marianne didn’t _want_ to be noticed. So Hilda just shouldn’t’ve noticed and gave her what she wanted. It was being courteous, really. She pulled her eyes away. Some guy was looking down at her adoringly, ready to be twisted around her finger. _Focus on_ that.

She shouldn’t have noticed Marianne pecking away at some buns as adorably as one of the birds she was always talking to. Marianne thought she was being so subtle! Like there was some sort of subtlety to her rapid bites just because they were quick, but there was so _many_ of them, and the dear is obviously just _so_ hungry. It really was just like one of those birds, hopping and fly around with such grace and then just throwing all that grace away to scarf down their pieces of bread. It was so _cute_!

_Gah! Stop noticing!_ _I_ _shouldn’t notice!_ She tore her eyes away, wondering when they even drifted over, as she switched from some guy for another guy. Nice muscles on this one… he could carry a whole section of the library for her. Not like Marianne. She’d have to lean over Marianne’s shoulder, faces inches away from each other, guiding Marianne’s trembling hand under her own to the shelf and feeling it still and relax in her grip… Marianne’s fingers looked so pretty tonight. Hilda was proud of her work. Marianne at least let her pretty her up a little before the dance, and she found the perfect blue shade that matched Marianne's hair _perfectly_. Wait. She was noticing again. When did _that_ happen? She should’ve been focusing on this guy, on the dance. She just. Shouldn’t've. _Notice_ _d_ _._

_But_.

This wasn’t the start of the school year. There had been too many hands brushing against each other as they sorted books and sending a nice little jolt through her system. Too many times Marianne jumped back and leaned into her for comfort at another bottle dropping in the infirmary. Too many hours spent practicing dances for the Hereon Cup, just the two of them, Marianne’s fingers on her hips as electric as any Thoron spell.Too many close calls where she was hurt and Marianne’s magic and gentle touch sent warmth trough her body, her soul, and out to her fingertips. What did _this_ even feel like? Nothing. No jolts, no comfort, no electricity, no warmth... nothing! This guy… goddess, she didn’t even know his _name…_ he wasn’t half as beautiful as Marianne. And yet, for all that beauty, Marianne was just letting the night- _this night-_ pass her by. No. That just wasn’t right. If the Heron Cup proved anything, it was that Marianne was _made_ to shine.

And that it was Hilda’s job to bring it out of her. Like it or not. Which, make no mistake, she did _not_ like. Hilda never met a job she _did_ like, and she wasn’t starting now, just because she was throwing away the dances she dreamed about all year… to go to Marianne instead… and do the work of drawing her out… oh, shut _up_ , brain, you made your point. She gave Some Guy The Third- goddess, did she switch a partner _again_ without noticing?- a polite, apologetic smile as she told him she needed a break.

“Do you need to sit down? Lay down? I can grab a chair, or three, or a couch from the commons?” Or three? A _couch_? “Maybe you need to fuel up? I’d be happy to serve you as you regain your strength.” _Handfeeding_? Ughhh, did Marianne even know what she was giving up right now!?

Still, Hilda laughed with a charming lilt. “No, no, I’ll be fine. Please, just have a good time.” He nodded and went off to find a new partner, as Hilda went off to find hers. Marianne. Not ‘her _Marianne’_ , her _partner_. _Dancing_ partner! _Shut up, brain_!

“Marianne!” she greeted, with a smile. Marianne looked up, like a deer caught in an archery course. She obviously wasn’t expecting any attention tonight, which was _ridiculous_. If she wasn’t trying to hide, every eye _would_ be on her. She looked even more surprised than she usually would be, though, and her next words confirmed why.

“H-Hilda? What are you doing here?” _With_ _me_ , was left unsaid, but to Hilda, it echoed off the walls. She turned up her smile, trying to radiate safety.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”  
  
“...B-because there’s gentlemen? And dancing?”

A remorseful sigh escaped her lips, try as she might to hide it, and judging by Marianne’s little giggle, she failed. Still, the sound lessened the sting somehow. “Don’t remind me…” In an instant, the smile was back on. “But I’ve danced enough with them! I’m allowed to check in on a friend, aren’t I?”

Marianne’s smile alone made the detour worth it. “I suppose…”

“It’s the _Garreg March_ _Ball_ , Marianne. And you’re the winner of the Heron Cup! So I _know_ you can dance, especially after all my _expert_ tutoring.”

Her eyes darted away, and a blush spread through her cheeks, even brighter for how pale her skin was. She fiddled with her dress as she answered, “There’s no boys I want to dance with,” and there it was. Hilda was going to have to take the lead again. What _was_ it about Marianne that brought out this side of her? That made her do things against her very _core_? Hilda did not _work,_ not when she didn't absolutely _have_ to. Hilda did not go the extra mile- the extra _foot_ \- to spoil someone else. Hilda was the _spoiled_ , the _chased_ , the one to be worried over and taken care of. That was a fact, a Garreg March tenet. And yet, somehow along the way, another fact was established.

Hilda does the work for Marianne. Hilda takes care of Marianne.

Ah, well. It was what it was. No use fighting it _now_.

“And what did I say, Marianne? If a boy asks, you must accept. It’s polite.”  
  
“I-I know, I’m sorry, but…”

She sighed, fondly, as if there just wasn’t any other choice in the matter, and held out her hand. “Dance with me.”

Marianne’s eyes were even wider than usual, her blush even deeper. “E-eh? B-but I said I’d watch…”  
  
“And you said that about dancing with boys. I’m not a boy. Obviously.”

“...B-but tradition…”  
  
“It’s _tradition_ , Marianne, not a _rule_. Heck, just look at Dorothea and Mercedes, they’ve already made their way through most of the girls. I’m a little offended they haven’t gotten to _m_ e,” she grumbled to the side, affronted, before fixing the charming smile back onto place and aiming it at Marianne. “C’mon!”

“…” Marianne’s eyes met hers with a surprising strength, and Hilda was short of breath all of a sudden. “You don’t have to. D-do something you don’t want to. I know you were looking forward to this, so you don’t have to waste time helping Marianne again. You do that so much already, but tonight… t-tonight should be for you.” Oh… oh, sweet thing… that was sweeter than anything any of the guys had said to her tonight. She really thought this was just an obligation for Hilda.

Hilda let her smile soften with her tone, and tried to convey just how much she genuinely wanted this. “Marianne. I want to. I promise. It’ll be just like I said before you danced in the Heron Cup, remember?”

‘…” Marianne nodded, and recited almost blissfully, “’Imagine I’m dancing with you. Just like our lessons. Just the two of us, nobody else, and you’ll do great’.”

“And you did! This time, I’ll actually be dancing with you, too. It’ll be nice to have a partner with talent this time…”  
  
Marianne looked at her for just a moment more, as if scanning for any sign of pity or hesitance. And then… then the little witch _smiled_ , mischievous, a twinkle in her eye. “I-is it still rude to turn down a girl? If we’re already flouting tradition?”

Hilda gasped, playfully, hand to her chest, and the delight in Marianne’s laugh was worth a hundred chairs Some Guy the Third could’ve brought her to lounge on. “ _Marianne_ ! That’s it, now you don’t _get_ a choice.” She grabbed onto Marianne’s hand, and took a moment to note how much better theirs fit together than any of the other partners she’s had tonight. She began dragging Marianne to the dance floor.

“H-Hilda…”

“I’ve got you. Remember,” she assured, with a little quirk of her lips. “Just the two of us.”

And Marianne nodded, slowly. “Just the two of us.”

Then, effortlessly, the dance began. They already knew each other’s movements, their grips, so well after those hours of practice for the Cup. Hilda was shocked, and honestly a bit offended, when their professor chose Marianne over her. _She_ was the best dancer in the house, everyone knew it. Then Marianne had come to her room, hair frayed and sweat pouring down her skin, begging for help. Like always, Hilda couldn’t say no. And the thing Hilda learned in those lessons was… Marianne _listened_ . So many dancers want to enforce their will onto the dance, make their _own_ rhythm, and drag their partner along. But Marianne went with you. If you stepped a little too early, she’d adjust effortlessly. If you lost you r balance a little during a twirl, she’d support your weight and guide you to the landing without a second thought. And with a little of Hilda’s confidence and experience, Marianne _swept_ the cup.

She wondered if the professor planned for Hilda helping. Not just for Marianne becoming such an incredible dancer, or for getting her moment to shine and bask in a win. That alone would’ve been good enough- she still remembered Marianne telling her, breathless and disbelieving but so overjoyed her voice was laced with it instead of anxiety for a change, “I... I still can't believe it. How could someone like me have possibly won?" But the way Hilda’s heart soared with pride seeing Marianne up there, and how Marianne’s eyes looked for _her_ in the crowd- not that she was hard to find with how loud she was cheering- and she broke into the softest smile Hilda ever saw… it was _their_ moment. A moment between them, just like now. She wondered if the professor planned for that. It wouldn’t surprise her; it seemed like the professor thing to do.

“Are you… having fun?” Marianne asked, with a touch of concern. It was so sweet of her to check in. Talk with the boys had been so one note, almost like a script. A flutter of the eyelashes here, a compliment there, oh someone like _you_ would be _such_ a big help for _that…_ same script, different guy.

“It’s the annual ball, of course I’m having fun!” She definitely was _now_. This was more like she dreamed. The perfect dance, the perfect partner… for dance...

“Oh. You just… didn’t look it before…”

Geeze. Even Marianne could tell, huh? “I didn’t?”

“N-not that you have to explain anything to me! Just… it looked like you were going through the motions…” It was so sweet of her to care, to worry over her.

"I’m having fun now,” she amended, and Marianne’s smile deepened as they danced.

Goddess, this felt right. Hilda took the lead, like always. Marianne’s hand on her shoulder… hers on the curve of Marianne’s back… those light brown eyes looking just a bit more vibrant, all for Hilda… It was just like practice, but even better. The romantic lighting, the swelling music, and Marianne, happy, for _once_ , for just a moment or two. Because of _her_. Screw tradition. Let everyone see Hilda passing up the perfect chance to dance with every boy from every house, because all _she_ could see was the quirk of Marianne’s lips, and the spark in her eyes, like the ripple of life in a quiet pond.

Emphasis on the ‘all’, because she got so caught up in the Marianne of it all, she could feel her feet slip. _Whoops_ . Ah well, what was a little embarrassment on the biggest night of the year? Marianne’ll probably be more mortified than she would be. _It was going so well, too._ She closed her eyes and prepped herself for a fall, and… nothing.

She opened her eyes to find Marianne, peering down at her, resolute. Her hand had slid down in an instant and was on her back with a certainty like Hilda had never felt from her before. Just as the song had ended too. That was her partn… her dance partn… her _Marianne_ for you. Always listening. And here she was, holding her up.

Taking care of her.

“I’ve got you,” Marianne whispered, without a stutter, without a trace of doubt or hesitance, like this was the one thing Marianne was absolutely _sure_ she could do.

_Oh_.

She was blushing, wasn’t she? She was blushing _so_ hard… As Marianne pulled her back up, there was some clapping from the other dancers. Hilda cleared her throat, straightened her hair, and tried to get back some control. “G-guess it’s not the two of us now, is it?” she got out, with a forced casualness. Goddess, now _she_ was stuttering. At least Marianne was looking her usual anxious self at the attention, and that brought a resurgence of Hilda’s confidence. It was Marianne’s turn to be taken care of. “ You know, a dip like that isn’t exactly _traditional…_ ” she teased.

“O-oh, I didn’t… I wasn’t…” So. Cute. How could Hilda resist? Fortune favors the bold, right?

She leaned in and gave Marianne a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry,” she reassured, lips mischievously curled, “I liked it.”

Marianne seemed to blank for a second, face now brighter than any of the lights. Heck, it’d give the sun a run for its money. For a moment, Hilda thought she went too far, and that Marianne was about to bolt. But instead, she swallowed, and managed an, “O-oh. Good. I wanted…” Her hand squeezed Hilda’s even as her eyes stayed on the floor. “I wanted you to like… at least my dance tonight… i-if that’s not egotistical to say…You deserve the night you were hoping for... ” Hilda could put it together. While Hilda was trying to make this good for Marianne… Marianne was trying to make this dance better than Hilda’s others too. She was trying to _spoil_ her. Was that why she said yes? For Hilda’s sake, as much as Hilda asked for hers?  
  
Hilda couldn’t keep herself from grinning as she started to drag Marianne once again, now to the food table. “C’mon! I want some of those buns you were digging into.”  
  
Marianne was still red from before, so this just wasn’t fair, but Hilda couldn’t help such prime opportunities to tease. “Y-you saw…”  
  
“Marianne von Edmund. I _always_ see you.” She beamed at her, and after a moment of staring at Hilda, jaw dropped, Marianne beamed back. “Now, let’s eat up. We have to refuel for our next dance. I think you should take lead next time.”

“N-next… B-but you said it’s tradition not to dance with the same partner…”

Hilda smirked. “What’s one more flouted tradition tonight? It’s just us anyway.”

Marianne chuckled, lightly, and gave her the softest smile Hilda had ever seen. Lindhart’s pillows would envy this softness. “Just us.”

“Right. Now…” She held out a bun to Marianne’s mouth. “Say ‘ah’~”

And as Marianne actually took a trembling bite, both of their faces radiating more steam than the sauna, Hilda couldn’t help but think:

This was the most exciting night of her life.


End file.
